To be, or not to be
by Marwana
Summary: Sequel to 'By the Grace of...' They had all abandoned him after they had discovered that he had been sired by a demon and not by James Potter, leaving him in the hands of the demon and Voldemort... Full summary inside.


_Hereby the first chapter of_ 'To be, or not to be...', _the sequel to_ 'By the Grace of...'  
_Just to be sure: this story will consist of one-shots leading up to Harry's change from human to demon._

_Someone asked me why I didn't just add them to '_By the Grace of...'. _The reason why is rather simple: this is the third part of _'Fallen'._ The first part is '_Fallen'_ and tells the story of Sebastian's fall, the second part_ (By the Grace of...)_ is about how Harry met Sebastian and his fall, the third part_ (To be or not to be...)_ will tell of his rise... If that makes sense..._

_**Disclaimer:** not mine._

_**Summary:** They had all abandoned him after they had discovered that he had been sired by a demon and not by James Potter, leaving him in the hands of the demon and Voldemort. They believed him to be broken, but he would show them, he would show everyone, that that wasn't the case. Because being proven wrong would mean the lose of his humanity and his morals. And he wasn't willing to lose those._

_**Warnings: **angst._

_I hope you enjoy this sequel to '_By the Grace of..._'!_

* * *

**Broken**

"I collected your mail for your, my little demon," his _butler_ purred from behind him, "I suggest you read them _before_ you go back to your sulking."  
"I do not sulk," he muttered childishly, "I'm thinking."  
"Of course you are," the demon murmured patronisingly.

It had been two weeks since he had moved in with Voldemort and he had refused to see the snake-like man ever since he had been forced to accept his _hospitality_.

The room he had been given was nice – far nicer than he had when he had still lived with the Dursleys – with a large bed, a nice desk with different inks and quills and a lot of parchment, a book case filled with both his own schoolbooks and a couple of other books he should read according to Voldemort and a closet filled with clothes ranging from muggle sportswear to wizarding formal wear.  
The only thing he ever wore, however, were still Dudley's cast-offs. More out of a statement towards Voldemort than that he actually _liked_ wearing them.

The colours decorating the chamber were pale blues, greens and reds, with darker browns and reds for the furniture. In fact, most of the furniture was made out of the darker cherry wood. That was what the demon following him around had told him at least.  
The room also counted two large, French windows and a door leading to a small balcony.  
Both windows had large, low window sills with large, dark blue, soft pillows. The left window sill was his favourite place in the room as it had a nice view on the garden.  
On the balcony stood two wooden chairs and a small table large enough for a tea-set.

All in all, it was an opulent, richly decorated room specially created with him in mind. He was quite sure that if it weren't for the fact that he wasn't a Slytherin and that he had made quite sure that he was completely against Voldemort, the room would have been heavily decorated in green and silver and that snakes would have been the most important motive found.  
Now, there was no single snake present and some of his favourite colours decorated the room.

But he would never see the room as _his_, he had sworn that much when he had first moved into the house.

"Now, after you've read your mail I suggest you start on your homework," the being told him sternly, "unless you want to start on it now?"  
"I'll read the mail first," he finally grumbled as he removed himself from his comfortable window sill and walked towards the desk. He had made the mistake of dismissing the demon's words last year in favour of playing Quidditch with his now former friends. The demon had made quite sure what he had thought of him ignoring his _command_ by adding something in his tea which had forced him to spend quite some time sick in bed. In the end he hadn't managed to finish his homework on time which had seen him end up with a week of detentions. That had been the last time he had ignored the blasted creature's words or suggestions concerning his coursework.

"Whom are they from?" he asked sullenly.  
"One from Gringotts, one from Lord and Lady Malfoy and one from Sirius Black," the demon listed as he paged through the small pile of letters.

"Sirius? He wrote me a letter?" Harry asked as he perked up. The demon opened it and handed him the letter inside.

_'Harry,  
As you might have guessed Hermione and Ron told me about what happened at Hogwarts. About the demon following you around, the fact that you agreed to become Voldemort's apprentice and the death of your muggle family.  
I'm disappointed Pro-. No, you aren't him anymore. I could live with the fact that you aren't James' son. If Lily had been raped and Prongs could have accepted you as his own regardless of the fact that you __weren't__, I could have dealt with that. But I can't deal with a demon or Voldemort. How could you have chosen for their side? After he __murdered__ your family?  
And how can you stand that demon. It's a demon, Harry, a demon! How can you- By Merlin, the stories alone should have-  
And Voldemort. My little brother- My family- __Your__ family-  
I can't-  
I'm sorry but I've to ask you not to contact me. I simply can't deal with this. Not after-  
Don't try to contact Remus either. He will not answer any letters. None of us will, not after your decision to follow the man we have been trying to oppose for decades.  
Sirius'_

He dropped the crumbled piece of parchment on his desk, his mind numb as he reread what he had just read.  
He felt his heart break and it hurt, it hurt him more than even the betrayal of his friends had hurt him. Maybe because they had betrayed him again? First by leaving him and now by making _Sirius_ leave him.

Or maybe because the betrayal of his friends was still so fresh and he had yet to build a wall around his heart against the hurtful words that were thrown at him by some of his former friends and their actions towards him.  
He would have, eventually, but it would have taken time. Time they hadn't cared to give him.  
He was already down, and now they had delivered the last kick that made him lose whatever fire to fight against Voldemort he had managed to keep. What use was fighting if you had nothing to fight for?

He had lost his parents, first because Voldemort had murdered them and now because of the discovery that James Potter might not have been his father and Lily Potter might have been raped. Besides his parents, he had lost the only friends he had ever made. Two of which had been his _best_ friends. The same friends whom he had expected to stand by him no matter what. He would have stayed loyal to them even if _they_ had been the one with the demon parent.  
He had also lost the last members of his family and even though he knew that they had hated him they had still been _family_. Family had been everything to him.  
And now he had lost the last adult whom had cared for him. Sirius Black had been everything to him ever since he had discovered that he had been his father's – _James_ – best friend.

He had debated for the last couple of weeks about what he should write him._ If_ he should write him, even. In the end, he had thrown away more parchment in his attempt to write a letter to his godfather than he had ever wasted on his essays.

Tears stung in his eyes and the parchment in front of him became blurry.  
"My little demon?" the demon behind asked gently as he carefully took the piece of parchment from his desk, "are you alright?"  
"I- I'm fine," he hiccupped softly, "please, ca- can you leave me for a bit?"  
The demon studied his face briefly before he nodded curtly.  
"I'll be back in about half an hour with tea and the raspberry pie I made before the letters arrived," he told him.

The soft footsteps and the equally soft opening and closing of his door signalled his leaving.

A soft sob escaped his lips not long after the demon had left him. Why couldn't Sirius have asked him about _his_ side of the story? And why did he think that he would ever _join_ Voldemort willingly? The man had _murdered_ his parents. The fact that the demon _might be_ his father didn't change that!

Another sob – louder this time – wracked his body.  
He had believed that _Sirius_ at least would have listened to him. He of all people should know how it felt to have a family you didn't like and want.

And just like that, the dam broke. Tears streamed along his cheeks and sobs shook his body.  
He rested his head in his hands as he slumped forward.

He sobbed harder as he realised that he hadn't _only_ lost the last link to his parents, he had also lost the last link to the side that opposed Voldemort _and_ the last person that had cared for _him_ and not for the Boy-Who-Lived or the saviour.

His traitorous mind suddenly brought some part of the letters back to the front. Parts about how Sirius didn't see him as _Prongslet_ anymore. The part where Sirius had asked him not to contact him, at all. The part where he had written that he could have dealt with the fact that James Potter wasn't his father hurt as well. Did that mean that he had only wanted him because of his father? And now that they weren't related anymore, he suddenly didn't care?

It broke his already broken heart even more. No, it shattered whatever was left of his heart completely. He was truly alone now, even more than_ before_ he had even started Hogwarts.

Empty eyes looked up from the pillow he had pressed to his chest and head – and how he had ended upon his bed he couldn't remember – as the door opened softly.  
He knew that his eyes would probably be red from the fact that he had, apparently, cried for almost half an hour. And he also knew that he probably looked like a right mess.  
He was even dimly aware that the way he looked and the letter the demon had taken with him might mean the end of Sirius but he wasn't aware enough on the moment to truly care.

He stared listlessly as the butler entered his room with a small cart. The smell of tea and fresh pie hit his nose but the tea reminded him of Grimmauld Place and the pie reminded him of the Dursleys.  
It reminded him too much of better times, though he didn't count the last one as 'better'. It was just familiar.

The demon stopped short the moment he had entered his room and amber red eyes zoomed in on the wet shirt and pillow, the red puffy eyes and the tear streaks on his face almost immediately.  
He left the cart where it stood and made his way over towards him.

"My poor little demon," he whispered softly but Harry could hear even in his numbed and deadened state that the emotion behind the tone was everything but pity or sympathy, "don't worry, I'll make sure it'll be alright."  
He carefully petted his hair.  
"Everything will be fine," he cooed, "I'll take care of it. He will not bother you again."  
He gently removed his glasses and just as gently manhandled him until he was laying down.  
"Everything will be fine," he repeated as he carded his hand through his hair, "you'll see!"

It didn't take long before he had fallen asleep; the gentle coos of the demon and the careful petting combined with his tiredness of having his heart once again broken was too much for him.

He never even noticed the bright, glowing, slit eyes that promised death and torture, the dark smirk and the dangerously bared teeth that were more commonly seen on cornered animals and the sudden appearance of sharp claws as he succumbed to the dream realm his broken heart needed.

**oOoOoOo**

"How is he?" the current Dark Lord asked him as soon as he entered the room.  
"Broken," he answered him emotionlessly.  
"Who would have thought that _Black_ would be the straw that broke the camel's back," the snake-like being mussed out loud, "and all it took was a single, simple idea planted into the unprotected mind of _one_ insignificant little girl."

He turned serious not long after, "what are you going to do about him? About Black?"  
He just raised an elegant black eyebrow.  
The Dark Lord just looked back before he finally caved in, "he hurt your precious little demon. Shouldn't you bath him in hellfire?"  
The words '_precious little demon_' were stated mockingly and he narrowed his eyes warningly at the human.  
"Watch your tone, mortal," he stated darkly, "I can easily find my amusement elsewhere."  
The man nodded curtly.

"I'll leave him for now," he told him before he bared his teeth into a dark, pleased smirk, "after all, my _precious_ little demon will need some _nourishment_ as soon as he has matured. And I doubt _you_ would offer yourself as his first _real_ food."  
The man shuddered slightly at his words.

Dark laughter rang from the room not long after.

**oOoOoOo  
**  
He knew that they saw him as broken, it was clear in the pleased gleam in their eyes as they looked at him and the almost patronising way they spoke to him if Si- _he_ was mentioned.  
But he wasn't broken, he _wasn't_!

It had hurt him, of course it had, but he was still determined to fight back. He wouldn't let either Voldemort _or_ the demon win. He couldn't if he wanted to keep his morals and stay human.

They might not know it – or they just didn't care – but their plans for him were quite clear. The demon wanted him to become like him: a bloodthirsty being that saw humans as nothing more than means of entertainment and food.  
Voldemort on the other hand wanted two things: he wanted him to become the perfect little heir – dark, malicious and without morals and scrupulous – and for him to become a demon bound to only him.

On the moment the two were working together, but it shouldn't be too hard to make them fight each other. All he had to do was play it right.

And once they had started to fight their attention on him would lessen, which would give him the chance to escape from Voldemort's house and into the muggle world.  
With a bit of luck the demon would be too busy with Voldemort to search for him.

He would show them that he wasn't _broken_.

Unknown to him an almost insane but determined glint had appeared in his eyes, a glint observed by the very beings he would be trying to pitch against each other.  
He absently noticed the two sharing glances but read nothing in it.

However, he didn't notice the satisfied gleam in their eyes, nor did he notice the smirks exchanged.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!_

_Reviews are always appreciated,  
~Marwana_


End file.
